


Aftermath

by loves_books



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1568234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis holds his James close after a difficult case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> My first piece for this fandom, and the first piece I've ever actually posted for any fandom other than The A-Team - consequently, I'm very nervous! Be gentle with me...

For such a tall man, James has the remarkable ability to fold himself down to almost nothing. Right now, he’s tucked up tightly against Lewis’s side, long arms pulled in against his chest, longer legs elegantly folded beneath himself, head dropped down to rest on Lewis’s shoulder. Little more than a ball of gangly limbs.

Lewis has his own arms wrapped tightly around his young lover, keeping James as close as he can. It’s been one of those days. One of those weeks, actually, a truly horrendous case unfolding rapidly after a string of cases which had already seen them both exhausted and on edge. Innocent had taken one look at the pair of them and sent them both home for the weekend, telling them the last of the paperwork would wait until Monday. 

He’s glad she ordered them home. James would have wanted to stay until everything was finished, even if it took all weekend, and Lewis wouldn’t have been able to do this in the office. To just sit and hold his man, and give him all the comfort and love he needs. All the comfort Lewis needs too, if he’s honest with himself.

He wonders who used to hold James like this, after a difficult case. He knows his younger partner has a small but close circle of friends, his bandmates included, but somehow he can’t imagine the quiet sergeant opening up to any of them the way James does with him.

Not that James has spoken much about his distress. Not out loud. No, Lewis has had many years now of observing this introspective and complicated man, of spotting the tell-tale signs that show when James is upset. The signs are there, though, always. Chain smoking even larger numbers of cigarettes than usual. A jawline so tense Lewis worries for his lover’s teeth. A sharper bite than normal to a particularly sarcastic tone of voice.

Who used to do this for James, before the two of them finally stopped fighting their feelings for each other? How many nights did James lie alone in his bed with no one to hold him tight and tell him he was safe? After Zoe Kenneth, after Zelinsky? So many years they’ve wasted, and Lewis hates thinking about that. 

Not that they were truly wasted, he has to admit. They’ve both come a long way since the two men they were when they first met, both of them have grown and changed and become different people. They’ve grown together, grown so close they are irretrievably intertwined now, and Lewis wouldn’t change that for the world. He can’t imagine not having James by his side every day, both at work and at home, just like this.

They grew together slowly, becoming colleagues then friends then, for a long time, something more. Something without a name, a cocoon stage almost, where little touches lingered too long, and eyes would lock across the room, heated gazes speaking louder than words ever could. Holding hands beneath the table when they sat in the pub in the evening. James resting his head on Lewis’s shoulder when they watched the telly at the weekend. 

They never actually had the awkward conversation, yet somehow they found their way together, and Lewis tries hard not to overanalyse things. He never would have expected, not at his age, to be living with and loving a man young enough to be his son. But he wouldn’t change a single thing.

The age gap still bothers him, on occasion, just a bit. He used to worry that James only cuddled up to him like this when he needed the comfort of a father figure, rather than a lover. That he would never ask his friends to hold him like this, but knew his older boss would give him what he needed without question. Lewis never said that out loud, but every time the traitorous thought sneaks into his head, James seems to know, just as he does now.

One clever, long-fingered hand has been stroking slow circles on Lewis’s stomach for a little while now, and James dips that hand beneath the thin t-shirt to stroke bare skin at last, calloused fingers teasing on the older man’s skin. James dips his little finger just beneath the elastic waistband of Lewis’s favourite and well-worn jogging pants, the ones he only wears on nights like this, when comfort is everything. He’s full of good food, the last case finally seeming far away, and a few beers have certainly helped him reach that stage. If only he could get James there too.

James had barely managed a few bites of dinner, working his way quickly through three beers instead, even though the fourth has been sitting untouched on the coffee table since they sank into the sofa together nearly an hour ago. Some quiz show is playing quietly on the telly in the background, one of the few where Lewis can sometimes provide answers his clever lover doesn’t know. Neither of them are really paying attention to it at the moment, even though Lewis can see James’s pale eyes are fixed blankly on the flickering screen.

That stroking hand suggests James is coming back, now, from whatever dark place his thoughts and memories have taken him to. For both of them, doing the jobs they do, they see the worst side of people. Some cases hit closer to home than others, and some take a little while to get over. Most of the time, a pint or two down the pub does the trick, and then it’s straight on to the next murder. But sometimes, things become personal, and one or both of them struggle to find a way back to normality once it’s all over.

For Lewis, the cases with kids involved always hit him right in the heart. He knows it’s the parent in him, and the grandparent now too, of course. For James, it’s often less predictable. The more gory cases don’t tend to affect him, even when Lewis is fighting not to throw up in front of the uniforms, but every now and then something will make him go very quiet. Lewis has spent years trying to find a pattern, and he thinks there is one, though of course where James is concerned nothing is straightforward.

Often, the cases that really upset James involve sexual abuse in some shape or form. The older man hates that fact, hates knowing there’s something in his younger lover’s past that makes that an issue for him. James has never opened to him about most of his childhood, though Lewis strongly suspects something happened at Crevecouer. He’ll never ask, never push James to tell him, though of course he’ll listen if the subject ever arises. 

Perhaps it’s better he doesn’t know – he’d hate to have to go kill Augustus Mortmaigne in his prison cell, though he’d do it gladly with a smile on his face, if he knew for certain the man had hurt his James.

This case has hit both of them, but James is suffering the most, still cuddled up close by Lewis’s side, practically in his lap. A naked woman found bloody and beaten, viciously and obviously raped, wrapped around the dead body of her young daughter. Thankfully the child hadn’t been touched, if you could get past the single gunshot wound to the head that killed her, but the woman had been all but catatonic when her neighbour found her. James has been hanging together by a thin thread all week, and after he witnessed the girl’s murderer, the woman’s attacker – another neighbour, her secret stalker – shoot himself through the head when he had been discovered, Lewis could see his lover was close to breaking point.

Thank goodness Innocent had seen the same thing and told Lewis to take Hathaway home. Lewis thinks she knows about the two of them, but she’s never said a word, not directly. They’ve always had a strange relationship, DI Lewis and DS Hathaway, ever since their first day working together, but they always get the job done. Innocent is professional and practical enough to value results over slightly unorthodox policing methods, and more-than-slightly unorthodox working relationships. 

Whatever trauma James might have been through in his young life, Lewis has always been grateful it has never impacted on their relationship. James has never flinched from him, not even when the older man wakes him from a rare nightmare, showing a level of trust and love that reassures Lewis that this relationship really is the best thing for both of them, age difference be damned. 

James needs to be held, and right now Lewis needs to hold him, for all the same reasons. Feeling his lover alive and breathing, close by his side and wrapped tightly in his arms, reassures him that they’ll get through this. There will be other terrible cases, other nights when perhaps Lewis is the one who will need to be held, but they’ll always have each other.

He sinks further back into the cushions, tugging James’s long body with him and tightening his arms even more around that too-skinny form. James hums a little, stirring enough to press a soft kiss to Lewis’s neck, that stroking hand resting low on his stomach now. Despite the circumstances that have brought them here tonight, Lewis loves nothing more than just holding his man like this. James’s soft blonde hair tickles his chin a little, longer than he used to wear it and starting to curl ever so slightly. He gives in to the need to kiss the younger man in return, pressing his lips into that soft hair he loves so much.

“Alright, pet?” he whispers quietly, not really wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere of their living room, even as a muted round of applause erupts from the speakers of the television. 

James hums again, deep in his throat, before heaving a huge sigh. Lewis strokes his hand gently down the long curve of his spine, feeling the wiry muscles shift under the skin as James stretches slightly against him. “Yeah,” he answers after a long moment has passed. “I’m good.”

“Good.” Lewis strokes his hand back up again, just as James dips his own hand lower still on Lewis’s stomach. “I love you, y’know?”

“Love you too, Robbie,” comes the immediate response, and Lewis smiles. They don’t say the words out loud often, neither of them being the best at having the big emotional conversations. Gestures speak louder than words, but sometimes those words need to be said. Need to be heard.

James unfolds just enough to look Lewis in the eye. Still some turmoil in those pale blue depths, but more peace now thankfully. Certainly more peace than when Lewis had found him covered in blood, after that murderer and rapist had taken his own life. 

Lewis leans down to him as James stretches up, and they kiss, slowly, gently. Reassurance for them both, that they are safe, together, and in love, and the rest of the world can just go hang. At least until Monday morning.

They are both breathing a little hard when they break apart, and things are certainly stirring, but Lewis waits for James to speak. If his man needs to be held longer, then he will sit there all night and just keep him close. But if he needs something more – 

“Take me to bed?” James breathes, and Lewis smiles at him again, nodding slowly.

They don’t need any more words after that. Lewis lets his young lover unfold himself slowly from the sofa, watching those incredibly long limbs unfurl and stretch. It never ceases to amaze him just how graceful James is, though he knows his lover doesn’t ever feel that way, so often hunching over when he walks rather than standing tall and proud. Once upright, James reaches down and seizes his hand in a grip that borders on painful in order to help him stand, and neither of them let go as they move quietly through to the bedroom, Lewis reaching down to flick the telly to standby as they pass. 

He knows what James needs tonight. He knows that James needs to be comforted and held and soothed. Needs to be made love to and made to feel alive. More than anything, he knows James needs to feel loved and cherished, and Lewis can certainly do all of that and more. Whatever James needs, whenever he needs it, Lewis wants to be the one who is there for him, just as James has been there for him countless times before.

However they reached this point, the years it took them to realise what they could have together – nothing is important but the fact that they are together now. Lewis loves James with all his heart, knows the younger man is a precious gift he never would have expected, not after already having lost one love of his life. 

And as they reach their bedroom at last, as the door clicks shut behind them closing out the evils of the world, Lewis draws James into his arms once more and kisses him again and again, telling him with actions rather than words that he is safe here. That he is loved.


End file.
